A short window of a night sky

Haunted by unfavorable weather, heavy clouds coming in from the West, yet still clinging to a chance fed from a forecast of a short window of clear skies in the opposite direction, I raced the clouds towards the closest mountains Northeast of Cork. In the dark, a short hike, all the way up to Knockmealdown Mountain’s Sugar Loaf, and smack right into a dense cloud. No visibility upwards or anywhere really, except the blurry whitish of my lamp reflecting upon the dense mist surrounding me. I dropped the gear, put up a stove and got my hot cacao going… At least, tonight, I could have that.

And once again, in this unforeseeable symphony of Irish landscapes, the winds came to play, along with a sudden drop in temperature, pushing all the moisture to the ground, dragging the mist to lower altitudes. On the horizon below me, the surrounding towns were now blurry strokes of reflected light. Above me? Above me was something else… an entire galaxy unfolded, with Jupiter and Saturn dancing in the foreground, and sporadic meteors fading into bright light. The sights were only scarred with already too many man-made communicating clunks of shiny metal and solar cells.

Knockmealdown Mountains, Co. Waterford

2020, July

Comet Neowise plus some celestial firework…

A glimpse of a clear night sky in Ireland, with her winds toned down to a soft breeze. Above, a gibbous moon shining South, closest planets circling the hemisphere, some human amalgamations of metal shining in unnaturally slow trajectories, and an unexpected comet surging North… Wait, what? Comet?!

Had to get myself on top of a mountain, far, far West, away from man made lights and bound to seek only those that have been filling the darkness and myths, for ages beyond senses.

On a starry sky, emerging over the landscape, there it was, an unusual shape, a blemish of light in the dark sky, bright in its core, dragging a flamboyant tail. A rewarding sight and reason enough for the drive and experience, memory already in the making.

I set the camera, attached optics, pushed buttons in an exploratory sequence, capturing the scarce photons into bytes, a hope of digitizing the sight.

In the hour that followed, what happened goes beyond imagination. Emerging below the comet, behind the far mountains, a surge of noctilucent clouds rampaged across the entire landscape, exalting light, colors and tones worthy of a William Turner painting. The clouds cradled the comet, as if blessing its astronomical voyage. The beauty of this night landscape now deeply impressed my mind. I wasn’t expecting this. I would be happy just for the comet. There’s always light. Sometimes, we just need the darkness to see it.

Mount Gabriel, Mizen Head, West Cork, Ireland

July, 2020